Kevin Frisch: An American travesty

Wednesday

Oct 31, 2007 at 12:01 AMOct 31, 2007 at 4:39 AM

Funny Thing ... Ancestors

Kevin Frisch

The nuts, as the saying goes, don’t fall very far from the tree. I was reminded of this recently after conducting some genealogical research and uncovering a hitherto unknown ancestor, a Colonial antecedent named Cotton “Cottonhead” Fritsche.

Cottonhead — the nickname came from his shock of white hair and not, as some of his contemporaries claimed, any mental deficiency — first achieved notice as a pioneering musician. His late 1760s Colonial band, The Butterchurners, capitalizing on a then-popular ditty, reached No. 8 on the Toppe of the Poppes with a song about a famous patriot and his rooster, “Yankee Doodle Doo.” The group gained notoriety for flouting British rule and moved on to more controversial material, including “Eat Mine Pantaloons” and “We Get Skittish Around the British.”

Such irreverence did not go unnoticed and, in 1771, a king’s tribunal sentenced Cottonhead to be drawn and quartered. A gifted orator, Cottonhead got his sentence reduced: He was to be drawn and halved.

While in prison, Cottonhead shared a cell with John Hancock, who repeatedly tried to sell him life insurance. Despite this, they became good friend and, in 1773, escaped from prison just in time to attend the gala event of the season, the Boston Tea Party, which was held that year in Baltimore.

Fritsche and Hancock split in 1774 when Hancock joined the First Continental Congress and Cottonhead, who drank way too much tea at the party the year before, formed the First Incontinental Congress.

All difference were forgiven, however, on the night of April 18, 1775, when Cottonhead found himself in Massachusetts as word came of a British invasion. Contrary to legend, Paul Revere did not ride that not by horseback to warn of the attack — his horse had been lost in a game popular at that time: “Shoot the Horse.” So Revere climbed aboard Cottonhead piggyback-style and, together, they traversed the countryside.

Thus drawn into the Revolution, Cottonhead became an important contributor to Colonial efforts, primarily as an editor of patriotic propaganda. It was he, for example, who suggested Patrick Henry change his now famous declaration from its original, “Give me liberty or give me a spanking.”

As delegates convened in Philadelphia to draw up the Declaration of Independence, Thomas Jefferson famously declared, “All I need is a bottle of whiskey, a sheet of parchment and the pen of Cottonhead Fritsche.” On arriving in Philadelphia, a disappointed Cottonhead was informed Jefferson didn’t want him; just his pen.

Thus rebuked, Cottonhead joined the army. With Cottonhead under his command, George Washington, in quick succession, lost Brooklyn Heights, Harlem Heights and White Plains. Washington then made his famous crossing of the Delaware, which was actually a ploy to sneak out on Cottonhead and not — as historian Arthur Schleppenger postulated
— a “beer run.”

Still eager to serve, Cottonhead joined Benjamin Franklin and John Adams in heading overseas to drum up support for the Colonial effort. The trip was a success with Franklin securing aid from France, Adams obtaining backing from Spain and Cottonhead contracting a venereal disease in Italy.

Impressed with Cottonhead’s resourcefulness, Franklin asked him to join the staff of Poor Richard’s Almanac, where his new scribe contributed such maxims as “He who lives in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, unless first proceeding outside” and “Early to bed, early to rise, early to happy hour.”

Unfortunately, Cottonhead came into the office one morning and found Franklin in a compromising position with a secretary. Despite Franklin’s insistence that the two were conducting experiments on static electricity, Cottonhead served notice.

With the Revolutionary War raging, Cottonhead incorporated one of the country’s first boat-building operations, “Ye Olde Shippe Shoppe,” in Scranton, Pa. Production started briskly, with some three dozen vessels built before it was pointed out that Scranton is some 120 miles from the ocean. The company collapsed.

Following the war, Cottonhead established the Cottonhead Fritsche Memorial Fund for Scholars, an annual endowment that paid tuitions and bar tabs for needy college students. When told that memorial funds are usually named for dead people, Cottonhead, rather than renaming the fund, attempted to do himself in by sticking his head in an oven. Fortunately, gas ovens weren’t invented until the late 1800s, so Cottonhead lived another 15 years before being laid to rest beneath a marker that read, simply, “Here lies Cottonhead Fritsche. Consider yourself lucky.”

Kevin Frisch is managing editor of the Daily Messenger in Canandaigua, N.Y. Contact him at (585) 394-0770/Ext. 257 or by e-mail at KFrisch@ MPNewspapers.com.

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